


Colourless

by SoulEatsSouls



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Therapy, but not as angsty as the summary makes it sound, set during/just after season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 06:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13945197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulEatsSouls/pseuds/SoulEatsSouls
Summary: During one of his therapy sessions with Dr Leland, John admits that life in Arkham just isn't fun anymore and he wants help.





	Colourless

Drifting.

It's all he ever does now, drifting from place to place, day to day. Has it been a day? Does day and night even exist anymore? It's not like he kept track of time before and Lord knows he's never even heard of sleeping so who knows. It's all the same, the people, the noises, the colours. 

No, not the colours, because there are no colours. None, and it's driving him insane.

More insane.

"John,"

And the lights, the humming. What once was a comforting noise is a constant buzzing in his ears, always giving him headaches. It's like a bumble bee found it's way into his skull and now can't find the way out. He wishes the thing would stop stinging him.

"John,"

It's so quiet out here too, has it always been this quiet? It's nice when he's watching TV because he can hear it. But at night, when he's lying in bed and he's stuck listening to his thoughts and that incessant buzzing from the lights and the screams from the guy in room 0798. Yeah, buddy, I feel ya. But you mind piping down, some people are trying to dissociate.

"John," He hears his name again but firmer, breaking him from his thoughts and he looks around. When did he come to Dr Leland's office? Not like he could tell, it all looks the same. Whites and greys everywhere, completely absent of colour. Was this place always this dull? He looks down at his hands and even they are colourless. He wants to grab the markers from the rec room and colour himself in. "Are you listening?"

"Ya know, doc," He starts, not even knowing if what he has to say has anything to do with their current conversation, and frankly, he doesn't care. "I want out."

"Out?"

"Yes, out. Out of here. Out there. I want out."

"Why the sudden change?"

 _Good question,_  John thinks but mulls over his answer. He's thought of this, a few times now. He's been wanting to ask for a while but the thought of leaving this place... scared him? Worried him? No, those aren't the words he's looking for, but it wasn't good, that he's sure of. But he just can't take this anymore, he feels like he's too big for his body, and no amount of stretching will get his skin to fit right. The Asylum shrinks everyday, becoming claustrophobic, and John's ready to start thrashing.

"It's not fun anymore."

"Okay," She says slowly and he can hear her scribble something down in her notepad. "And, how long have you felt this way?"

"What day is it?"

"Thursday."

That doesn't help him in the slightest, hell, he doesn't really know what month it is. What year is it? They could really do with a calendar in this place, in the rec room, with kittens on it. That'll brighten the place up, or make him want to strangle cats. Maybe puppies instead.

He puffs out a breath of air through his teeth and shrugs.

Dr Leland sighs. "Alright then, tell me what's changed. How did you feel before?"

"Like I was floating," He perked up slightly. He brought his legs up on the chair to cross them. "My feet felt oh-so light, I thought I might have helium in my lungs as opposed to oxygen." He let out a small giggle before continuing. "Colours were brighter too, almost blindingly so, burning my retinas. In a good way. But now..." He sighed and visibly deflated, his back hunching slightly. "Now it's all dull and grey and... boring."

"When did this change occur?"

"When he left." John says quietly and Dr Leland doesn't need to ask a follow up question; she knows exactly who he's talking about. 

She's seen him in the rec room and during art therapy, grabbing up arm fulls of newspapers and magazines and quietly tearing them apart on a table by himself. She's seen him snap and almost harm another patient when they picked up one of those torn images out of curiosity. She's seen him stealing tape and glue.

She's seen his room.

One wall, the one that his bed is pushed up against. It's completely covered with pictures - not all varying, there are plenty of doubles of the same image - of one man.

"Bruce Wayne." It's not a question because she knows she's right and she watches John's face go through a multitude of different emotions, before he smiles at her.

"He ruined my life," That made Dr Leland frown.

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"Isn't it?" He answered quickly, looking right into her eyes. She motioned toward him with her pen for him to continue. "He came into here--" He tapped the side of his head. "--And mucked up the place. Ripped up the carpet, tore down the curtains, knocked over the furniture, smashed my lovely little porcelain statues, just completely trashed the hotel room."

"I still don't see this as a good thing." Dr Leland said once he'd stopped long enough to give her a chance.

"Well, what do you do when the place is a mess? Clean it up, of course. I can rebuild, continue my life down a completely different direction, 'cause let's be honest here, doc, my life wasn't exactly great to begin with now, was it?" Dr Leland opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out, the comment taking her by surprise. Luckily John continued, oblivious. "So here we are, ready to redecorate and make it better. And I'm sure, even though he was the one to wreck it in the first place, Brucie probably won't mind lending a hand. Compensation and all that."

Dr Leland nodded, writing in her notebook before speaking. "Well, John, I'm more than happy to help you in the process," She saw his eyes light up, his entire being light up. "It's what I'm here for."

"Thank you! Thank you, doc!" John jumped from his seat but didn't move any closer, years of being grabbed (attacked) by the orderlies cautioning him not to.

"But I have to know something, and you need to be truthful with me,"

"Of course,"

Dr Leland didn't look away, gazing right into John's eyes. "Are you doing this for yourself, or for him?"

John didn't hold her gaze for long, looking around the room as he thought. Not a clear sign that he's lying, it's just what he did. When he finally landed on an answer he was happy with he glanced back.

"Can't it be both?"

Dr Leland felt her brows begin to furrow but quickly straightened them. She wasn't 100% happy with that response, she'd much prefer if John wanted to get better simply because he wanted to. She didn't want John to base his entire mental health on one man who might not even remember his name. She knows what he's like when it comes to rejection. Maybe over time John will realize this and get past it. But having something to work towards, a goal - no matter how finicky it was - was a good thing. At the start, he'll find a new one soon enough.

"Alright," She began scribbling in her notebook again, talking as she did. "I'm going to want to see you three times a week as opposed to just one now. I'm going to up the dosage of your medication too," Her eyes flicked up just in time to catch John grimace, like she knew he would. "No complaints, John, you want to get better, yes?"

"Yeah, but..." John's shoulders slumped, lightly chewing his lip.

"No buts,"

"They make me drowsy, and they taste gross and they're just so big, I nearly choked once you know, why do they have to be that big? Seems like a bad design choice on their part," There he goes again, rambling like he usually does when he's nervous.

Or having second thoughts.

Dr Leland's hand stopped writing and she glanced to the floor in thought as John continued to complain. She couldn't let him go back on this, she wants to see him get better. She wants to see him live his own life. There was no way this was all going to be scrapped just because of some pills.

Dr Leland took a quiet breath. Maybe, he could use a little motivation.

"You want to get better, don't you?" She interrupted John's ramble, which had now moved onto one of the orderlies giving him the stink eye. "You want to get out of here, live your own life... See Bruce again?"

John's jaw shut with an audible click, and that's when she knew she'd got him. He nodded, enthusiastic.

"Well, this is how it's going to happen. You need to work toward it, it's not going to happen overnight, and it's not always going to be easy. But your cooperation will speed things along. Okay?"

John mulled it over, an exaggerated thoughtful look on his face. It quickly disappeared to make way for his usual grin, and he pointed a pale finger in her direction.

"Ya got me there, doc," He chuckled, and Dr Leland's shoulders relaxed, she hadn't realized they'd even tensed up. "The ol' carrot and stick method, huh? I like it! Let's do it!" He held his arms open. He could already see the brightness in the world begin to be turned up. "Cure me!"

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just express how much I love writing from John/Joker's POV, it's so much fun.  
> Also, I realize that I write John to be more... stalker-ey than most, but I'm obsessed with John's obsession, okay.
> 
> I do have another fic planned where John is first released from Arkham. Dunno how long that'll take, but it'll be a pseudo sequel to this.


End file.
